


This Is Such A Pity

by aldreikynn



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: post overlord. boy do i love angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4045150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldreikynn/pseuds/aldreikynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Overlord incident. Rodimus drama and angst. A cathartic writing experience I posted for some reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Such A Pity

**Author's Note:**

> mtmte 15/16 spoilers obviously

_Blame someone. Blame Prowl for manipulating you, blame yourself for believing it, blame Primus for hating you. Don't even consider blaming your best friend, but he's the one who covered for you anyway and now he's leaving and you can't even deny that it's your fault, no matter how hard you try in vain to tell yourself it's not. It's really not. He's leaving because he wants to leave, because he has to. It's not your fault. If this gets to you, you'll fall apart. You'll crash and burn. You can't afford to crash and burn. Magnus is gone, Drift is leaving, some of your crew are dead, and the rest are injured and mourning and broken and you don't know what to tell them._

Rodimus grit his teeth and sent his pede through a wall, the debris of other recently made holes crashing onto the floor and energon trickling from his fists. He was being irrational and he _knew_ he was being irrational, and if Drift were still there, they'd be doing deep breathing and meditation, but Drift was going to leave and he probably isn't coming back.

_You fucked up really badly this time._

Rodimus threw a bloodied fist through the wall again, trying and failing to hold in a yell. The loud screaming and thrashing was sure to be bothering some part of the grieving masses, but without Drift to comfort him or Magnus to shut him up, he didn't fucking care. He couldn't bring himself to care.

_You let this happen. They hate you. You can blame someone else all you want, but they don't care. It's gonna bother you a lot, you know. Gonna be a lot harder to forget that you hate yourself with the two people who could actually manage to keep you in check gone. And you just let it happen._

It sucked not to have someone there to shut him up. Whether Rodimus liked it or not, he was a terrible, irrational, angry person with a lot of repressed _bullshit_ and violent tendencies that kept him from really being able to like himself without help.

_You fucked up and you can't take it back. Rewind's dead, Pipes is dead, Tripodeca is dead, who the hell knows what happened to Magnus, your best friend took the fall for you and decided he'd take the blame without a second thought, everyone definitely hates you even more now, and you have to speak at a funeral for people you barely knew in twenty minutes. And you're just throwing a fucking tantrum. Congratulations._

Rodimus jerked his elbow backwards, making another hole in his wall and letting out another guttural yell. With all this mess, Ultra Magnus would have thrown a fit, but Ultra Magnus was in the medibay with an impossible-to-fix hole through his god damned spark and he was going to die. Fuck his hypothetical fit. Rodimus should be _mourning_. He definitely shouldn't be destroying his office with his fists. 

_You're being pretty selfish, you know. You could be taking this time to think over what to say about those brave sparks who lost their lives because of your impulsive ass. They're dead because you were too much of a pansy to say no to Prowl. But no. Look at yourself, really. You're a mess._

Rodimus didn't even realize that fluid leaked from his optics, that his servos were dented and bloody, or that his tanks were churning and his spark felt like it was shrinking like a black hole collapsing on itself. He fell back on a wall, now decorated with holes and dents, and slid to the ground, burying his face in his hands and letting out a long whine _._

_"I fucked up."_


End file.
